


Far Too Young To Die

by PunkSuperWhoLockPrincess



Category: BBC Sherlock, Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural, Superwholock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Reader Insert, imagine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-13 14:06:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1229260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkSuperWhoLockPrincess/pseuds/PunkSuperWhoLockPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with a little girl who wasn't afraid of the dark...</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>SuperWhoLock: Supernatural/Doctor Who/Sherlock </p><p>Reader Insert. Future love triangle... but with three love interests (one for each show)... Love rhombus?</p><p>[This probably could be rated Teens and Up, but I figure better safe than sorry.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Innocent

**Author's Note:**

> Setting: Somewhere in the United States, New Years Eve 1998/1999.
> 
> [Today's Song of the Day: "Innocent" by Taylor Swift. Even if you're not a fan (I'm kind of not), it's a beautiful song, and I think it has a lot of meaning. It also kind of ties into the chapter.]

"Baby girl, Mommy and Daddy are going to a New Year's party at Aunt Lana's house, okay? Be good while we're gone." Your mother bent down to kiss your forehead, filling the air around you with the scent of her perfume. "We'll be back early tomorrow morning. Be in bed before then, okay?"

"Okay, Mom." You smiled sweetly, setting your book down on the sofa. You waved at your parents as they made their way out the front door. "Bye! Have fun!"

Once you heard the no-nonsense click of the deadbolt locking behind them, you turned back to the empty living room. You had been reading all afternoon, and had grown bored with it. You were beginning to feel hungry as well, so you decided to make a box of mac n' cheese. Even though you were only ten years old, you knew how to do lots of things for yourself. Your parents were very young, and were often out attending parties. You had been basically raising yourself ever since your aunt (who lived with your family for the first few years of your life) came out of her retirement and moved out when you were six.

Half an hour later, you were sitting in the living room, eating and watching a Disney princess movie. Your mom said you were too old for princesses, but you loved fairy tales. It had only been a few years since you had lost your childhood belief in fairies. Your aunt used to tell you the best stories, about fairies and elves. Scarier things too, like witches and vampires and a monster called a wendigo. You loved the stories, even the ones that scared you a little.

After dinner, you decided to go outside. Unlike most children, you weren't the least bit bothered by the dark. You had a playset in the backyard, and you wanted to swing. You just needed to put on warmer clothing first.

A few minutes later, you stood in front of your bedroom mirror, surveying your reflection. You had pulled on some wool leggings under your pale pink nightgown, adding your puffy white coat. You pulled a light blue hat down over your (hair color) hair and slid your feet into your rain boots. Satisfied that you wouldn't freeze to death, you skipped downstairs and out the back door.

Outside, you sat down on the swing. You kicked your legs back and forth, and soon you were going high. You wondered vaguely if this was what flying felt like. You were startled out of your daydream by a man's voice. "Aren't you afraid of the dark?"

You stopped swinging and stared at the man. He was tall (then again, all grown ups were tall compared to you), and had messy dark brown hair. He was grown up, but he didn't look very old, probably younger than your parents. He was dressed like a cartoon character, with a suit coat and a bow tie. You dug your feet into the ground to slow down and stared at him for a few seconds before answering his question. "No. The dark isn't scary. Besides, my house is right there."

"You're right. The dark isn't scary. It's the things in the dark. Lots of things, and some of them are very frightening." The man was British, or at least he sounded like it. "What's your name?"

"(Y/N)." You gave him a curious look. "My Gran talks like you. Are you from England like she is?"

"No." The man smiled mischievously. "I'm from a bit farther away than England." He stepped forward, holding out his hand to shake yours. "I'm the Doctor. And, (Y/N), we need to get you inside."

He grabbed your hand, pulling you up out of the swing and leading you quickly towards the house. You heard something making a noise behind the two of you, and then the Doctor yanked open the back door, pushing you into the warm, light-filled kitchen.

"Is something out there?" You felt your stomach flutter nervously as you stared at the Doctor. He pulled some kind of odd tool out of his pocket and waved it over the door knob. Once he seemed satisfied, he turned to face you.

"(Y/N), I need you to be very calm." He knelt down to your height, placing his large hands on your small shoulders. "There is something outside, and it is going to try to get in. But I promise you, you'll be fine. Just don't be scared."

You nodded solemnly. "What is it?"

"Something bad." He moved to stand between you and the door, as if guarding you. "Do you believe in aliens?"

You shrugged. "My aunt used to tell me that there are lots of things in the universe that no one understands." You paused. "Are aliens real?"

"Yes." The Doctor nodded. "The thing outside is one. It's called a Sontaran. They're very dangerous, but luckily there's only one. If you'll help me, I can stop it." He talked to you like you were an adult, an equal. You liked the feeling.

Even so, you were scared. You grabbed the Doctor's arm. "Will it hurt me?"

"Of course not." He smiled down at you, practically radiating confidence and comfort. "You've got me."

***

The Sontaran burst through the back door, and you screamed. It was awful, and didn't look human at all. The alien was bald, with an odd, dome-shaped head and a wrinkled face. It wasn't much taller than you. What scared you was the gun.

You backed up against the wall as the Sontaran approached you, letting out a small whimper. The alien came closer, raising its weapon. You raised your hands to shield your face -- 

The Sontaran fell forward, landing in a heap at your feet. The Doctor stood behind it, holding a broom by the wrong end. He had explained to you earlier that Sontarans have a weak spot on the back of their neck. He just needed you to distract it so that he could hit it from behind, stunning it. He grinned at you. "Good job, (Y/N). I'll take it from here."

He bent down to examine the unconscious alien. You tugged on his sleeve. "Are you just going to leave?"

He sighed, smiling sadly. "I have to." He offered you a hug. "But I'm sure I'll see you again some day. You're a very brave girl, (Y/N), and interesting things always happen to brave people."


	2. Brick By Boring Brick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the Winchesters (or at least, 2/3 of them...)
> 
> Also, this chapter features an OC, but she won't play a major role in the plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Setting: United States, Summer of 2003 - Fall of 2006
> 
> I introduce two OCs in this chapter (Aunt Abigail and Gran) but they're mostly filler characters to help move the plot along. Neither will end up playing a large role in the overall plotline.
> 
> [Today's song of the day: "Brick By Boring Brick" by Paramore. Again, the song of the day usually goes along with the chapter. I think music adds to the story, but that might be just me.]

"Mr. and Mrs. (Last Name) have been reported missing as of this morning. The couple were last seen two days ago, leaving an event hosted by a friend of theirs. They never returned home after leaving the party."

You stared numbly at the TV, letting the words echo in your brain. "Missing... never returned..." You squeezed your eyes shut, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You had called the police after your parents didn't come home, but of course they were just now looking into it. Your best friend was coming to pick you up in a few hours, so that you could stay with her family until your parents turned up. Still, you had a bad feeling, worry gnawing at your insides.

As the days slipped by like sand through your fingers, the hope that they would return grew dimmer and dimmer. After three weeks, you had to accept that they probably weren't going to come back. Your friend's parents suggested you call a relative to take custody of you. The only extended family you knew of was your grandmother and your aunt, and Gran lived in England. Obviously, you called your aunt.

Aunt Abigail was famous for not answering her phone for weeks at a time. You finally heard from her ten days after you called and left a message. Her reaction was less than comforting. She seemed desperate to avoid taking you in, and wanted to know if there was anyone else you could possibly live with. Unfortunately, there wasn't. Your parents' last will and testament was very clear; Abigail was to take custody of you in the event that something should happen not them.

It was another week before your aunt finally showed up, driving her beloved, yet overworked, old pickup truck. Her hair, almost identical to yours in color, was tied up in a sloppy bun, and her makeup-less face had wrinkles that you didn't remember from your early childhood. She was polite yet distant towards your friend's family, even though they had practically adopted you. As you climbed into the passenger seat of that truck, you had a sinking feeling that you weren't ever coming back.

"Where are we going?" You asked after several minutes of uncomfortable silence.

"Cincinnati, Ohio." Abigail answered, flicking her (eye color) eyes in your direction. You were a bit surprised by her answer. As far as you knew, neither of you had any business in Ohio.

Abigail was your mother's older sister. You knew that their parents had died long before you were born, which was why Abigail lived with your family for several years. Once she moved out, you rarely heard from her; Christmas cards and birthday presents in the mail, with the occasional phone call in between. You hadn't seen her in person for years. In fact, the last time was a few months after your encounter with the Doctor, though you still hadn't decided if that was real or a dream.

Once you reached Cincinnati, Abigail booked a cheap motel room, much to your disappointment. She told you that she had some things to take care of for work, and that you were to stay in the motel no matter what. But you were a fourteen year old girl you had just lost her parents; You were protective of what little family you had left. Needless to say, you snuck out, following Abigail to see where she went.

When she led you to an obviously abandoned warehouse, you were curious and more than a little freaked out. But, like any stupid teenager in a second-rate horror movie, you followed her inside.

What you saw inside changed your life forever, and not necessarily for the better. Long story short, you almost died. There was something called a wendigo in there -- a twisted, pale, deformed monster with a taste for human flesh. Abigail was there on a mission -- kill the wendigo before it killed any more innocent people. When you got in the way, you were almost the mosnter's midnight snack. Luckily, your arrival provided the perfect reaction for Abigail to kill the thing.

Back at the motel, you got the full initiation speech. Turns out, Abigail killed monsters like the wendigo for a living. She and your mother were both raised as hunters, but they retired after their parents were killed by a particularly nasty werewolf. Your mom met your dad, fell in love, and had you. But Abigail was eventually pulled back into "The Life," as she called it. That explained her reluctance to take in an orphaned teenager with no form of training.

You spent the next few months learning how to be a hunter. From hand-to-hand combat (Abigail's personal style was martial arts mixed with street brawling) to weapons training (everything from shotguns to a sword) to Monster Research 101, your aunt taught you everything. And you were a fast learner. You had to be, to survive in this family business.

***

It had been three and a half years since Abigail first adopted you. You hadn't had much contact with other hunters, since they were what your aunt called a "rough crowd." But you were eighteen now, and you had killed close to a hundred creepy bastards. You figured that you could handle a few battle-hardened humans.

The perfect opportunity came when you and your aunt encountered a particularly large nest of vampires in Atlanta. There was at least twenty of the blood-suckers, more than the two of you could handle on your own. Abigail called in an "old colleague" of hers, one who apparently came with his own backup.

You were waiting in a cozy roadside diner about thirty minutes out from the city. Being Georgia, the place had a distinctly Southern atmosphere, complete with sweet tea, barbecued pork sandwiches, and softly playing country music. You sat on one side of a booth, squeezed between your aunt and the wall. You sipped your drink and watched the door, trying to spot the hunters.

Two men walked through the door, the older one scanning the restaurant before his gaze landed on Abigail, sparking recognition. As they made their way towards you, you studied them intently. They were both tall, and both wore plaid shirts and jeans. The older man had black hair, and looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days. His (significantly) younger companion had light brown hair and enchantingly green eyes, carrying himself with an air of confidence. You noticed him wink at the blonde, curvy waitress as he followed his partner to your table.

The older man slid into the booth across from you. "Abigail. Good to see you again."

"You too." Abigail turned to you. "(Y/N), this is John Winchester and his son, Dean. Boys, this is my niece, (Y/N)."

"Hi." Dean treated you to a smile that probably would have made a different girl collapse into a puddle of estrogen. You simply rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your drink. You were pretty good at picking out a ladies man, and Dean had it written all over him.

"So, how many?" John leaned forward, all business. Before your aunt could answer, the waitress approached your table, shooting Dean a flirtatious glance as she asked for their orders. John ordered the house special, obviously not caring what he ate. Dean asked for a bacon cheeseburger and coffee.

As soon as the waitress was gone, Abigail answered John's question. "I figure about two dozen. They're holed up in an old house downtown. They've killed at least six people this month, which is why we need to stop them as soon as possible."

John nodded. "We'll go tonight."

***

That night, you found yourself in an abandoned building, fingers tightly gripping a shotgun as Dean walked a bit in front of you. John and Abigail had taken the other side of the building, leaving you alone with the younger man.

"So." He glanced back at you, then continued searching for vampires. "You hunt with your aunt."

"Yeah." You swallowed the lump on your throat, blinking away the threat of tears. "My parents disappeared a few years ago. Maybe one day I'll kill whatever took them."

Dean's voice was soft and sympathetic. "My mom too. I was just a kid."

"So now it's just you and your dad, huh?" You elbowed aside a piece of furniture, looking for any sign of life.

"Not always." His voice was even softer now, and you could have sworn he sounded choked up. "I have a younger brother. Sam. He... He got out. Dad told him not to come back."

You rested a comforting hand on his arm. "He'll be back someday."

"I hope--" Dean cut off, gripping your arms in a silent signal to be quiet. You heard it too -- shuffling and soft breathing to your right.

The two of you went into action just as a female vampire lunged out of the shadows. She was dressed in denim short-shorts and cowgirl boots, and you couldn't help but think that Dean would probably be interested if she was... you know... human. If she hadn't been trying to kill you, you might have laughed. Instead, you shot her in the chest and took out your machete, quickly slicing her head off.

At least ten more vampires leapt out, howling at the sight of their dead companion. They rushed you and Dean, all claws and teeth. No sparkles here: It was all shark teeth and blood lust and screaming. You and Dean swung into action, beheading as many of them as you possibly could. Your tank top and jeans were soaked with blood, leaving the air smelling like iron. Thankfully, none of the crimson liquid splattering you was your own. You kept swinging and shooting, watching one vampire after another collapse.

When you looked up a few intense moments later, you saw Dean wrestling with a beefy male vampire in a cowboy hat. This blood-sucker seemed to be more powerful than the others, probably their leader. You noticed another vampire, a female with thick brunette curls, sneaking up behind Dean while he was distracted. You saw her dainty lips part, revealing a mouthful of jagged, razor-sharp fangs, her eyes sweeping over Dean's neck. You raced towards them, desperate to save your new friend. "Dean!"

He looked up just as you pushed past him, swinging your machete at the female vampire. There was a sickening thud as her detached head dropped to the floor, splattering you, Dean, and the other vampire with bright red. The male vampire let out a scream, dropping to his knees next to the headless corpse of the undead (well, now just dead) woman. You had heard of a theory that vampires mated for life, and, judging by this guy's reaction, you were beginning to think it might be true. Dean took the opportunity to put the creature out of it's misery.

He turned to you with a surprised grin. "(Y/N), I think you just saved my life."

You grinned back, wiping the blood from your cheek with the back of your hand. "I think I did."

Dean suddenly pushed you to the side, swinging his machete at the vampire behind you. You watched the body drop to the ground; You hadn't even sensed it about to bite you. Dean looked up at you with a smirk. "And now we're even."

After that night, Dean Winchester was your best friend. With Sammy gone, he practically adopted you as his substitute younger sibling, not that you minded. You and Abigail went on several more hunts with the Winchesters, much to your enthusiasm. For the first time in years, you had a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that the last two chapters have both been more like unrelated one shots, but I promise that in the next few chapters, they'll start coming together with some kind of continuity. cx


	3. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we meet the other Winchester brother as well as the angel Castiel. There's another OC, but again, not a major part of the plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Setting: United States
> 
> Okay, so I lied. Gran is introduced in this chapter, not the last one. Once again, she's mostly a filler character used to move the plot along.
> 
> I'm trying to keep as close to the actual timelines of the shows, but I may change a few dates, just to make everything line up right for the purpose of the story. 
> 
> [Today's song of the day is "Monster" by Imagine Dragons.]
> 
> ** Slight blood/gore warning in the beginning of the chapter... Just a hunt that gets a bit bloody. I don't know if blood bothers some people. >.

The witch smiled malevolently at you, slowly approaching you as she toyed with the knife in her slender hands. You struggled against the thick ropes binding you to the wooden chair, spitting curses at her. You hated witches. They were all such sluts. You had burst into her house, hoping to stop her from killing any more innocent people (turns out that she had been wreaking vengeance on everyone who bullied her in high school), and instead, you got yourself tied to a chair, with the Wicked Bitch of the West about to use your blood for some kind of weird demon summoning ritual.

You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths to keep yourself from panicking. 'Uh, Castiel?' You prayed silently, hoping the angel heard your thoughts. 'If you could get the boys down here, like, NOW, that'd be pretty freaking great.'

"Awe." She pouted in false sympathy, running the knife teasingly over your cheek, not applying enough pressure to break skin. "Where're your partners now, huh? You know, the cute one and his tall friend. Although," She winked at you, as if you were twelve-year-old girls talking about which male celebrities you had crushes on. "The tall one isn't bad looking either. Have you slept with either of them? If it was me, I would have gotten some of that action a long time ago."

"Whore." You growled, fidgeting with the knots securing your ropes. 'Cas! Sometime this month, please.'

The witch pressed the edge of the knife blade to your arm, and had just begun to drag it slowly across your skin, bringing a stinging sensation and a trail of red liquid, when the door burst open, revealing the Winchester brothers. They burst into the room, wielding shotguns and knives and, of course, salt. Dean rushed the witch, while Sam ran over to you, quickly cutting your bonds. You had only known Sam for about half as long as you'd known Dean, but you were almost as close. You had lost contact with Dean after John disappeared, but met up again in the midst of all that Apocalypse crap. That was when you met Sam. You'd been travelling with them as the unofficial "third Winchester sibling" ever since.

You and Sam joined Dean in battling the witch, who seemed to enjoy throwing you around with the super-strength that she gained when she sold her soul to a demon. When she threw Dean into her dresser, he hit his head with a sickening thud, falling to the ground. Sam rushed to his side, while you turned to face the witch. You grabbed Dean's knife off of the floor, glaring at the witch. She moved to throw you, but you swiped the knife across her throat before she had the chance. She collapsed to the floor, bringing her hand up to the blood waterfalling out of the slit in her neck. She looked up at you, wide eyes filled with fear and hate. "Y-you... bitch." She sputtered, choking.

"Yeah, yeah." You knelt down next to her, watching as she bled out in a matter of seconds. "Guess I'll see you in Hell."

Once you were sure the witch was dead (You would burn the body later, just in case), you rushed over to where Sam was bent over Dean's crumpled form. You examined the older Winchester, who was thankfully still breathing. Bringing someone back from the dead was do-able, but inconvenient to say the least. You had personally never been dead yourself, and planned to keep it that way for quite a while. You stood up once you knew Dean was alive, throwing your head back and yelling at the ceiling. "Castiel! Help us out, please?"

There was the familiar sound, like a flap of invisible wings, and you turned to see Cas standing only a few feet from you. His gaze traveled over the dead witch, and then to you, his ever-so-blue eyes drawn to the blood that was beginning to drip down your arm. He muttered your name in a chiding tone, like an adult reminding a child to be more careful when they play, and moved towards you.

You held up your hands, shaking your head. "Dean first. I'm pretty sure his injuries are much more severe than mine."

Castiel nodded and moved to Dean, healing him in a matter of seconds. Dean blinked his eyes open and sat up, groaning and holding his head. You sighed in relief -- you felt choked up by fear any time one of "your boys," as you had come to think of the brothers and their angel friend, was hurt or in danger. Cas approached you next, gently taking your arm, pressing his hand over the cut. You felt the familiar healing sensation, followed by Castiel's fingers lingering on your skin just a second longer than necessary. You met his eyes, but found yourself unable to read the emotions hidden beneath his concern. 

***

Hours later, you were crashed on one of the beds in your crappy motel room, listening to Sam and Dean argue over what to watch on the TV. Castiel on the other edge of the bed, careful to leave a respectable amount of space between the two of you. You were just beginning to consider going to bed early when your cell phone started ringing, causing you to jump up. You snatched the device off of the nightstand, recognizing that the call came from Abigail's phone. You pressed Answer. "Hello? Aunt Abigail?"

"(Y/N)." Abigail sounded worried, stressed. "Are you working a case right now?"

"Just finished one, actually." You glanced at the boys, then turned your attention back to the phone call. "Is everything okay?"

"That depends." Abigail sighed. "How soon can you get to England?"

"What? What's going on? Is Gran okay?" You were worried about your grandmother, your father's mom.

"She's fine. Just suffering from a common condition known as 'getting old'." Abigail sounded like she was pacing a room. "I just got a call. She's not really all that great at taking care of herself anymore. She rarely feels up to leaving the house, and never has the energy to clean. She needs someone to take care of her. Her doctor actually recommended that I put her in a home."

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "You can't do that."

"I know. But someone has to take care of her. I'm in the middle of a skinwalker infestation right now, and it'll be weeks before I'm done cleaning up here. Can you take care of this, (Y/N)?"

"Of course." You were already beginning to pack your bags. You loved your grandmother, and were more than happy to take a few weeks off hunting to take care of her. "I'll get Cas to take me. Quicker and cheaper than a plane."

"Okay." You heard the relief in Abigail's voice. "Thanks so much, (Y/N)."

"No problem." You said goodbye and quickly hung up. You explained the situation to the boys, who were perfectly sympathetic and understanding. You promised to call, made them promise to be careful, and then turned to Castiel. "Can you give me a lift?"

"Of course, (Y/N)." He took your hand, an unusual violation of personal space. Not that you minded. He brought you outside and into a well-hidden area to the side of the motel. "Ready?"

When you nodded, he tightened his grip on your arm, muttering a brief "hold on" before teleporting you to your grandmother's flat in London. After you left, a man sitting across the street smiled, and stood up from the chair he'd been occupying. He picked up the ornate goblet sitting on the table next to him; at first glance it seemed to be filled with wine, but closer inspection revealed the liquid as blood. He stirred the blood with his finger, his eyes turning black as he licked the excess off. Strange whispers could be heard bubbling up from the contents of the cup. The demon nodded. "Yes sir. We found her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, so I promise Sherlock and John will be in the next chapter. Pinky promise.


End file.
